Borderlines
by Lemon Crisis
Summary: Yamato and Sakura make an almost unstoppable two man cell, but when they're back home and the masks of professionalism are discarded, their suppressed feelings for each other begin to rise to the surface.


**A/N - I do not own Naruto, the only thing I claim is the plot.**

**This is a new Naruto fic I've had bouncing around in my head for a few months now (along with all the others). It will be a fairly short one, probably coming to around 8 chapters in total as a guesstimate. **

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><p>Yamato groaned and threw an arm over his face, blocking out the punishing sun. The dark green curtains covering his window had always never quite met in the middle, and in the summer months they would let in the sun almost from when it first rose every morning. Of course, when he was working it was fine - he was usually up with the sun anyway, but this morning it was obscenely early. His head felt like someone was drilling holes from the inside of his skull, and something had <em>definitely<em> crawled in his mouth and died while he slept. Plus he was parched. He frowned under the weight of his arm, waiting for memories of the night before to return. How had he ended up so inebriated?

He heard a soft snuffle and stilled his breathing, ears alert. There was definitely something or someone else in the room. A few moments later he heard a little snore. Ok, it was clearly a some_one_. He breathed again and frantically wracked his aching brain for memories of the night before, then decided to just have a look. Yamato shifted from his back to his right side in the double bed, shifting over slowly and peering over the duvet in the direction the snoring was coming from. A shock of pink hair poked out of the top of an old blanket on his sofa.

Ah. Sakura. He smiled wryly to himself; that would explain everything then.

Memories came flooding back now, triggered by the sight of the medic-nin. His two man cell had come back after a successful mission that had seen them out of Konoha for just over three weeks. They'd both been tired, sore and in serious need of some R&R. Unfortunately they'd had to sit through the hours-long mission debrief with the Hokage before they could even get changed out of their gear. Once that was through they'd both gone home to shower and change, visited the baths, then met up for a celebratory meal and drink. Which would normally have been fine, except 'drink' had turned into 'drinks', and then into a bar crawl that had lasted until the early hours. Despite her petite size, the medic-nin was a formidable drinking partner, no doubt having learnt that particular habit from her sensei.

Yamato eyed the pink head of hair cautiously. He cleared his throat but she didn't stir. That was good, but also bad. Good in that he could probably make it to the shower without her waking up, but bad in that she could very well be there for most of the rest of the day.

Yamato grimaced as he slipped one leg out from underneath the covers and swung it to the floor, levering himself up into a sitting position on the mattress very carefully, one hand to his tender head. The other foot joined the first on the floor and he slowly stood, turning so his back was facing the sofa, just in case. He was only wearing boxers, and the fact that he was almost naked in the same room as his teammate bothered him more than it should.

He tiptoed across the floor, placing his feet between discarded items of clothing - it did really look like... No. He wouldn't go there. The floorboards creaked under his weight and he winced, the noise seeming disproportionately loud in the small apartment. Sakura didn't stir though, so he continued doggedly forward until he reached the closet, grabbed some clothes, then snuck to the bathroom door. With one hand on the frame, he looked back over his shoulder at the bundle on the sofa, but there was still no movement. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly turned the handle and slipped inside, locking the door behind him.

Feeling less exposed in the bathroom, he ran the shower while he cleaned his teeth and splashed his face with cold water, then kicked off his boxers and got in. He stuck his head under the cascade and back out again, blowing water from his lips, then grabbed the bottle of shower gel. The stuff lathered up nicely as he foamed it over himself and through his hair, enjoying the feeling of having a shower for the second day in in a row. The mission he and Sakura had been on meant that they hadn't had access to hot running water for quite a while. Cold washes with just a cloth quickly got old.

While he scrubbed his mind wandered back to the kunoichi sleeping in his apartment. He was somewhat disturbed to find himself disappointed that he'd woken up to her sleeping on the sofa rather than curled up beside him. Although they weren't teacher and student anymore and Sakura was technically an adult now, it still felt wrong to part of him to think of her that way. It was a moral conundrum that he was afraid to think about in too much depth. Normally he would go talk to his friend and mentor Kakashi about issues, but this was something he wasn't sure he wanted to share just yet.

He gave his hair a final rinse and stepped out of the shower cubicle, grabbing a towel off the rail and wrapping it around his waist. He swiped a palm over the mirror to clear the fog and regarded himself critically. He supposed he didn't look too rough, considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed - only a faint tightness around the eyes betrayed the pounding headache behind them. He considered asking Sakura to ease the pain with some chakra; the medic-nin would no doubt see to herself once she woke so it would be only fair if she helped him too. It was her fault he'd drunk so much anyway. He sighed and picked up his razor, he was going to need the two weeks off Tsunade had given them just to recover from the previous night.

Ten minutes later Yamato emerged fully dressed from the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. He glanced at Sakura, who was still out for the count, then picked his way across the floor to the small kitchen area. He dug around in his fridge and found a pack of unopened bacon he'd forgotten about. The date was still good, so he threw some slices in a frying pan and lit the hob. Luckily, he'd thought to pick up some essentials between leaving the debrief and going out last night, and that had included bread and milk. Soon the apartment was filled with the smell of cooking bacon and brewing coffee, and he grinned as he heard Sakura stir on the sofa. Nobody could resist the smell of bacon. Not even the comatose little medic.

"Uugghhhhh..." Sakura groaned. She sat on the edge of the sofa, still half wrapped in the blanket and her head in her hands for a few moments, then Yamato saw the familiar flare of green chakra as she started to ease away the after-effects of too much booze.

"Save some of that for me, will you?" Yamato said as he brought out the bacon sarnies and coffee.

Sakura looked up, "A medic nin must heal themselves before tending to others." She said with a smirk.

Yamato raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Well a cook needs to feed himself before he feeds others then." He made to take away the sandwich.

"Ok, ok! Gods. You'd take away a girl's food? That's just cruel."

"Cruel?! Do you even know how much my head hurts right now?"

Sakura grinned, "Well, it's not like I forced you to drink that much alcohol or anything you know."

"I was just trying to keep up with you!" Yamato put their breakfasts on the coffee table and gingerly sat down next to Sakura, trying not to jiggle his brain too much.

"Never try to out drink a medic-nin."

Yamato narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously smug face, "Oh," he said, "It was like that, was it?"

Sakura just grinned wickedly at him.

"Cheat." Yamato muttered, and took a bite of his sarnie.

"Hey, you mean you wouldn't slow down the effect of alcohol if you could?" Sakura raised an eyebrow at him sceptically.

He hmmmed around his mouthful, then swallowed, "Wellll..."

"Thought so."

They munched in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, savouring the non field-ration food.

"Now," Yamato said, as he slid his empty plate onto the coffee table and brushing crumbs from his hands, "I was nice enough to make you breakfast." He looked pointedly at her.

"Yes, yes." Sakura rolled her eyes at him theatrically, "Come here then and I'll see to that headache of yours."

He scooted closer and she put her hands on either side of his head. Yamato closed his eyes and relaxed as he felt her chakra begin to erase the thumping in his skull. She changed the position of her hands every now and then, sometimes at the sides and sometimes front and back. She had incredibly soft hands for a woman who could punch boulders into dust, and he quickly checked his mind as it started to wander into dangerous territory. It wouldn't do to start getting aroused while being treated by a medic-nin, especially if it was the medic herself that was causing it.

"There." Sakura murmured after a minute, and removed her hands.

Yamato opened his eyes and rocked his head side to side experimentally, then rolled his eyes in his sockets. No pain. He breathed a sigh of relief and practically sprang up off of the sofa as Sakura chuckled.

"Better?"

He nodded, "Better. Thanks."

Sakura waved a hand absently as she stood up, "No problem." Then, much to Yamato's dismay, she shrugged off the blanket to reveal boyshorts and a skimpy cami top. He quickly set about removing the plates from the table and took them into the kitchen while she rescued her clothes from the floor. He'd just spent over three weeks on a mission with Sakura and they had dressed and undressed, washed and gods knew what else in front of each other, and here he was getting flustered about her dressing in his apartment. It was nice to be able to drop the professionalism and relax around each other, but _damn_ was it doing bad things to his blood pressure.

When he came back out she had pulled on her outfit and was sitting back on the sofa, hugging her coffee with both hands as she sipped it. Yamato picked up his mug and joined her, crossing his ankle over his knee.

"Thanks for letting me crash by the way," Sakura said, glancing at him with a smile, then she flushed and added, "I mean, I'm presuming you let me stay - I don't actually remember how I got here."

Yamato laughed, "You think I'd be able to remember when you can't?" He rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger, "I'm not sure how we even managed to make it here in the state we were in."

Sakura hmmmmed in agreement, and had a gulp of her coffee. Then she started to snigger. Yamato felt the corners of his mouth twitch as their eyes met in shared amusement, his natural seriousness struggling to keep his face neutral. The sight of the pink-haired little medic sniggering away to herself was too much though, and he couldn't help breaking into a grin and chuckling along with her.

After a few moments their laughter died down, and Sakura finished off her coffee in one mouthful. "Well," She said, eyes still twinkling mischievously, and stood, "I'd better get out of your hair." She carried her empty mug into the kitchen and rinsed it meticulously, placing it upside-down on the draining board to dry. Yamato had followed her with his mug and was tempted, just for a second, to ditch it and wrap his arms around her waist from behind. He clung to the mug instead lest his treacherous hands betray him, consciously using it as a barrier between him and Sakura. She breezed past him and out of the kitchen, stopping in the genkan to pull on her boots.

"I had fun, Yamato-san," She said as he emerged from the kitchen again, "If you want to hang out again while we're off, let me know."

Yamato nodded, "I'll probably see you about town."

Sakura stood and flicked her hair back from her neck, quickly running her fingers through it before laying a hand on the doorknob. She looked back at him and grinned, "See you." Then she was gone, only a faint remnant of the perfume she'd worn last night left hanging in the air.

Yamato stood alone in his apartment once more. _I'll probably see you about town_? Well that totally hadn't been a cop out on his part. His knuckles whitened around the mug briefly, before he sighed and carried it into the kitchen. It was going to be a long two weeks.

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><p><strong>If you like it, let me know! If you don't, let me know why! Reviews and PMs are loved. But I'm ok with you liking (or disliking) it in secret too - lurk away ;)<strong>


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